His unpremeditated film career — in which he has parlayed performances as the happy-go-lucky
heroes of 1980s-era slapstick into the existentially uncertain leading men of thoughtful comedies
such as
Groundhog Day,
Rushmore and
Lost in Translation — ought to be considered sufficient.

Yet folks demand more from the actor, on whose rugged face a playful smirk and a contemplative
gaze look equally at home.

His latest role — in
Hyde Park on Hudson, opening on Friday in central Ohio theaters — seems true to his
resistance to being pinned down in any way.

In the film, directed by Roger Michell, he plays President Franklin D. Roosevelt as he manages
an affair with a distant cousin (Laura Linney), the effects of his polio and a visit from George VI
of Britain.

In a recent interview, Murray, 62, spoke about his need for a life free of preconceptions.

Q: Were you surprised that you were offered the part?

A: I thought, “Can this guy be serious?” I wouldn’t have cast myself. But this guy did, and
about halfway through I went, “Wow, he really was right.” Not to compare myself, but certain
personality things were similar, like the way he tried to leaven things and move attention around a
room, get everyone their little slice of the sun.

Q: When you’re playing a real-life figure such as Roosevelt, do you do any additional
preparation?

A: I’ve always tried to be a little bit loose. This great director we had at Second City (Del
Close) said: “You wear your characters like a trench coat. It’s still you in there, but there’s
like a trench coat.”

So I figured this was like a winter trench coat, because there was just a little bit more
character that comes to the party. So I did a lot more reading, a lot more studying.

Q: What did you learn from your research?

A: People ask, “Did this really happen?”

Well, if you read the diaries, it’s very clear that it happened. The writing changes. You read
this later stuff, when we’re at war, and he’s not telling his wife, he’s not telling the cabinet —
they don’t know where he is.

But he’s sending messages by courier to her every day. This girl was the vault. I love that
expression: “She’s the vault.”

He could tell her anything, and it wasn’t leaving her head.

Q: Did you want to convey Roosevelt’s voice as much as his physical presence?

A: We agreed that you don’t want to do an impression.

Q: When an actor decides to play a president, it’s often a signal of larger ambitions or
agendas. Is that the case?

A: The thing I was concerned about was: The story we’re going to tell — is it going to be a
tearing down of an icon? I don’t know if I want to be part of that, . . . where you trash
someone.

Q: Do you have enemies?

A: Oh, they’re out there. I know I’ve rubbed some people the wrong way. There was an autograph
guy two days ago who got into it with me on the street. I said: “One of my habits is I don’t do
exactly what you want me to do. I really didn’t get the guideline about your life. I was just
trying to live my own right now.”

Q: Are there days when you wake up and think: “Nothing good has come to me in a little while. I’d
better prime the pump”?

A: Well, who hasn’t woken up thinking, “God, nothing good has come to me in a while,” right?
When I feel like I’m stuck, I do something — not like I’m Mother Teresa or anything, but there’s
someone who’s forgotten about in your life, all the time.

Q: The roles that you did 10, 20, 30 years ago — are you surprised they endure the way they
do?

A: Certainly. When you did the job, you thought you were just trying to amuse your friends who
are all on the job. I’m just trying to make the sound guy laugh.